


Vice

by iiSolari



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, F/M, Red Dead Redemption 2 Spoilers, Video Game: Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:55:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27936722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iiSolari/pseuds/iiSolari
Summary: Elizabeth Smith is the face behind Jack Garner, a mute outlaw with a Robin Hood reputation. With a habit of pissing off the right people, she finds herself one of the most wanted persons across four states, and somehow finds a place to come back to.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Vice

Elizabeth had only planned to be in Thieves Landing for just a short period of time, just enough to pick up a few supplies in order to be able to survive in her camp. First, she had to pickpocket just a little bit of money to top off her supplies in order to guarantee that survival.

She lingers around the general store, humming quietly to herself as she keeps a subtle eye open for anyone that could be considered a little higher class--trying to seem like she was clueless and only there to peruse. She turns her head when she hears the door creak open, seeing two bodies come wandering inside.

Both were tall, but vastly different in terms of style and composure. One of them had raven black hair, slicked back with a matching black mustache on his face. He had a neatly pressed white shirt, a black and red vest fit snugly around chest. A gold pocket watch hung out of his pocket, the chain waving around with each step that he took. Black slacks, with black shoes that only had minimal amount of mud and grime from the surrounding area.

The other had white hair, parted neatly to his right side. His white shirt was not as neat as his companion’s, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His vest was more pleasantly colored, blue with an orange back. His necktie was a matching orange, shining just ever-so slightly due to the material. He had blue jeans, with brown boots that were much more sullied than the other’s.

They were speaking amongst themselves, from what Elizabeth could understand was about their camp. No location, no numbers of people, just that they needed to pick up a couple of things from this shop before they head back out to their location.

The shopkeeper greets them, as he did with her, watching as the two of them wandered around the store to pick up things off of the shelves. They approach the countertop, slowly as they converse with one another.

Slowly, Elizabeth turns toward the one with the red and black vest, making it so that she would run into him. During their fumble, she would dip into his pockets and pull out whatever money her hands could find but subtly enough to where he wouldn’t noticed. A can of fruit in her hand, she holds it out in front of herself to pretend to be reading the label on it as she goes to purchase.

She ends up crossing into the stranger with a loud grunt from him. Elizabeth drops the can with a loud gasp, placing her hands to steady herself and the stranger quickly. It was then, with one movement, when she swiped the money clip protruding from his pocket, using the ability of sleight-of-hand to tuck it into her dress sleeve in a manner to where it wouldn’t slide out. Her hands placed gently on his shoulders, she steadies him and stands straight once more. 

“I apologize fer not payin’ attention to where I was goin’,” she says quickly, her eyes pleading and innocent to the act of what she had done.

He looks down at her as she steadied him, letting out an amused laugh that rang through the inside of the shop. “It’s alright, just be sure you’re payin’ attention next time. The next person might not be as, uh... forgiving.”

“I will take that advice to heart, mister,” Elizabeth says, before properly folding her hands in front of herself to make her look smaller and more frail. “Thank you. I’ll be out of your way.”

He nods, briefly, before turning his attention back to the shopkeeper and laying his things on the countertop.

Her heels clicked on the floorboards as she slowly made her way out of the general store, listening intently to ensure that they would not discover her sin quite just yet. Hopefully, it would give her enough time to get on her horse and ride a few feet away. She knew the land like the back of her hand, she had to when she was in the business that she was.

Nothing. She seemed to be safe, for the time being.

She picked up her pace when the general store door shut, a small smirk beginning to play at the edge of her lips in amusement. At this rate, she hoped that she would be long gone by the time they would realize what she had done.

She hurried quietly over to her Thoroughbred, Cira. A tall and slender horse, a Black Frame Overo that had been with her for years. She pulls herself up on Cira’s decorated saddle, throwing her leg over quite easily. She settles in, snapping the reigns to get her horse moving as quickly as possible.

The risk of being caught red-handed had rippled down her back, relaxation finally settling in her shoulders as she drew more and more distance between herself and the general store.

However, when she heard the door bang open in the distance, she shot a stare over her shoulder.

Shit.

She saw the two men scramble to their horses that had been hitched outside, returning her attention to the road that led out South of Thieves Landing. She spurred Cira to move faster, immediately feeling her horse lurch forward as she sped down the path. She could hear their shouting behind in their attempt to catch up to her.

Once she clears the bridge in Thieves Landing, she curves off into the woodlands that began to form near the small riverbank. Weaving through the trees, using her knowledge of the terrain to her advantage as she dips Cira down the hills. She could hear them pull their horses to a sudden stop, the hooves digging into the ground.

She beams, to herself, turning her attention back to the road after she threw a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure that they turned around. Once she saw the coast was clear, she turned her attention around again after a couple of seconds.

Only to need to pull the reigns to make Cira skid to a stop. The horse dug into the ground, dirt curling upward as the animal attempted to do as instructed. Up ahead was a camp, a rather large one at that. There were bodies there, staring at her in disbelief as she pulled her horse to a stop.

In the middle of them all was a man. Tall, burly, wearing a weathered brown hat on top of his head. He had a beard, but not a long one, and bright green eyes that stared at her threateningly. He had a rifle out in front of him, aiming down the irons right at her. Her eyes went wide, just for a moment, before her horse finally staggered to a stop.

“Who are you?!” he barked immediately, cocking the gun.

“Jus’ passin’ through,” Elizabeth immediately defended, holding her hands up so he didn’t shoot. There was no reason for her to open fire, not on a camp full of people who did no wrong to her.

“Who. Are. You?” he challenged again.

“Jus’ let me go, friend,” she returned. “No need for ya to shoot, no need for anyone to get hurt.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong!” another voice came from the sidelines, and she turned her head while keeping her hands in the air.

It was the two men that she found in the general store, the ones she managed to pickpocket.

Who knew? The most wanted woman in four states, killed by accidentally trespassing. She always thought it’d be Pinkertons.

“Well, well, well,” the man with black hair led, getting off of his horse and stepping towards Elizabeth. “I gotta say, I should be upset, but you’ve made me rather impressed! Who would’ve thought, that someone in a lowly town such as Thieves Landing would have managed to get away with stealin’ from me!”

“I suppose ya shouldn’ be,” Elizabeth spoke, “considerin’ the damn place is called ‘Thieves Landing’.”

“I suppose you’re right about that,” he admitted before casting a look to the man who had a repeater barrel pointed at her. “Arthur, make her comfortable. Hosea. search the saddlebags. See if you can find my money, and found out who she is. Somethin’ tells me there’s more of a story with this one.”

“I think this is the moment where you get off of the horse,” the man named Arthur husked, stepping closer to her.

She was half tempted to draw her gun and fire, but he would’ve gotten her before she could even touch the grip.

So she listens, her eyes staying even with his as she drops her arms to hold herself onto Cira. She throws her leg over the side, dropping down to the ground and watching as the black-haired man departed from the scene casually. The man with the white hair moved toward Cira once Liz backed away from the animal, earning a repeater barrel stuffed into her back.

She sees Arthur’s arm reach around her, pulling her pistol that she had strapped to her waist. There was no urgent pat-down, the men under the judgement that she wasn’t an urgent threat. He puts the barrel of the repeater into her back and her hands raise, as if there were a button that he had pressed.

“Come on,” he murmured, urging her to move forward by prodding the barrel of the repeater into her back to jut her forward. 

She staggers, but only a bit, and begins to shuffle forward towards a lone wooden table in the middle of the camp. She exhales, keeping her eyes forward and her mouth shut. There was nothing she could do, no way that she could silver-tongue her way out of a situation that had occurred in front of so many people. All eyes were on her, whoever was located in the camp.

They arrived to the table, Arthur urging her again with the barrel of the repeater. “Sit down.”

She doesn’t argue, sitting with her knees away from the table top. He kept the barrel of the repeater pointed at her, standing in front of her so she knew she couldn’t get any ideas. Her eyes maneuvered up, scanning both Arthur and then resting right at the rifling inside of the chamber. She was not afraid of getting shot, considering she’s done enough in her years to accept death with open arms.

“Dutch!” the man with the white hair called. “I think you’re gonna want to come back here!”

“What is it, Hosea?” Dutch called back, causing the realization to settle in the pit of her stomach. Of course, her luck had to run out at some point.

Of course, she decided to pickpocket Dutch Van Der Linde, the gang leader who was right behind her in terms of bounties. Many people wanted his head, as well as her own. However, she just had a talent of pissing off the right people, making herself a little higher priority.

Her eyes remained on the chamber of the repeater, listening to the conversation being had behind her.

“I believe the woman we have in our camp is, in fact, the infamous Jack Garner,” Hosea explained. “The mute outlaw with a pension for robbing the rich.”

“Well, that would explain why dear ol’ Jack Garner is a mute,” Dutch laughed. “Finding no need for people to know that one of the most ruthless outlaws is a woman, not in this day in age.”

“How did ya gather that information?” Elizabeth piped up from her spot, watching Arthur to see if he would pull the trigger with that newfound knowledge.

“Your guns,” Hosea answered simply. “The one way that everyone recognizes you, Jack Garner, is your engraved weapons. Granted, you only have your pistol and your knife to avoid detection, but that serves enough proof.”

She smirks just a bit, still watching the barrel. “I guess I thought I was hidin’ enough from prying eyes. So why am I still breathin’?”

“Because, Jack Garner, if you still wish to be called that,” Dutch started as he finally stepped toward Liz, “I have a proposition for you.”

“Dutch?” Arthur questions.

“Arthur, trust me on this,” Dutch pushes as he connects his eyes with Liz once more. “You swindled me, successfully, and have left me terribly impressed. Now, there’s three choices here, and only one of them is pleasant. One, we can have one of ourselves escort you and one of the women to turn you into the Pinkertons. Two, we shoot you right now. Three, you join us to avoid both of those unfortunate fates.”

“Dutch?” Arthur voiced a little louder to oppose.

“Arthur, will you just let me do this? We could possibly use her skills of deception, she’s got everyone fooled in New Austin. Probably further.”

“All the way to Lemoyne,” she chuckled in amusement.

Dutch gestured as if to say ‘see?’, turning his attention back to Liz. “Well? Will you accept the offer, and be spared the idea of you suffering for the rest of your life? Whatever you have left of it.”

Liz bounced her attention between Arthur and Dutch, giving a harrowing chuckle as she moved her eyes back to the barrel of the repeater. “You know what? Fine. I can just use my pistol on myself if I hate it so much.”

“Good. We will put you to use, soon,” Dutch demands, gesturing Arthur to lower his weapon. “First, go gather your equipment. I’m sure you’ve made a camp somewhere around this wasteland.”

“I have,” she answered simply. “I’ll be on my way immediately.”

“Good,” he looked back over to Hosea, who had been putting her guns back in their proper locations on her saddle. “Hosea, go with her. As insurance, so she doesn’t run off.”

“Alright, Dutch,” Hosea agreed, before moving back to his horse that he had gotten off of. 

Elizabeth stood up, sauntering off toward Cira now that the repeater had been lowered. The only way that she could tell if she would like being around this place, was by staying in it.

So she intended to.


End file.
